Mother Nature's Embrace
by Nagaku Tsuzuku Yami
Summary: What if Sabretooth survived the fight against the runt instead of being killed off by the whelp in "Wolverine: Evolution"?
1. Mother Nature's Embrace

**Title:** Mother Nature's Embrace

**A/N:** I really don't like how Sabretooth was killed, he could have at least put up more of a fight. And damn it, why do they keep killing him off. He got his head cut off again in "Wolverine Goes to Hell" poor thing. Anywho, this story is what I would have preferred to happen. And yes, I know that the sword technically would have stopped healing and whatnot. But this is fanfiction, so let's just say some 'poor sap' found a way around that little problem, eh? lol. Its angst-y but with a sort of happy ending of Sabes being free an' all and in Mother Nature's embrace to boot! Mother Nature wasn't really mentioned much until the end, but he's in it throughout the story so ya lol.

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><p>Sabretooth walked aimlessly between trees that gently swayed in the wind. It was peaceful, and unsettling. Sabretooth wasn't used to peaceful moments and for the most part he preferred violence and noise instead of peaceful moments. Tender moments. He has ever since he signed on to be nothing more then Romulus's lapdog. A degrading role that left him with nothing and took everything from him.<p>

He was hated. Feared. He could live with that for the most part, but now because of those things he wouldn't get second chances or third chances at this point. He wasn't as lucky as the runt in that regards.

The runt aught to be thankful to him though, he could have taken the role of Xavier's attack dog instead. He would have been saved from Romulus and not the runt. But, but he couldn't live with that.

And Romulus took that from him as well. At one point and perhaps even now, he had a connection with the runt. But Romulus wouldn't allow that. Orders and enhancements of both temperament and mutation got in the way.

Then Sabretooth lost the last of his humanity to Romulus. And was killed by Wolverine, lost his arm and his head to him but fate or chance didn't let him die. He wasn't that lucky. Or perhaps he was. Some poor sap repaired him, and in return Sabretooth never killed him. He let him live, hoping faintly that he won't regret it later.

Somehow. Somehow some of the damage done to him when it came to his mind was undone, not fixed but not completely broken in a way. Sabretooth still had stronger urges then before, but at least now he can see a tree and name it instead of just seeing an obstacle to destroy. The same with anything that moves.

It was ironic really. He saved the runt from having to be Romulus's bitch for years more or less, and the runt turned around and shattered the collar that kept him loyal.

Sabretooth looked around casually he noted the subtle things around him. He no longer really knew where he was. Or cared for that matter. He was in the wilderness, and could practically taste the innocence and cruelty the wilderness offered. It really was a survival of the fittest kind of world, the stronger winning out. But it was also strangely tender, surreal even. It seemed to be embracing really.

Like a mother aught to be. Or at least that's what Sabretooth believed in some odd way. He wasn't too sure, thinking made him anxious and stressed. He really didn't want to think at the moment. So he kept walking, stopping only for the necessities. Faintly he wondered if this sense of freedom was what the runt felt like when he was embraced by the wilderness and freedom?

It was elating really.

Sabretooth listened to the crunching of snow underneath his feet and couldn't help but quirk his lips in what could nearly be a smile if not for the fact that he couldn't remember how to smile in any way other then to mock in a cruel way.

At some point Sabretooth came across a cave and simply made it his own, the scent of bear was a year old. It was abandoned during the summer and the bear that would have used it found another or was killed. So Sabretooth made it his. For now.

For now he'll stick around and wait. Get his head straight for the first time in who knew how long. Sabretooth didn't. And he knew that he wouldn't be entering the human world as a good guy, but he didn't quite feel like the bad guy at the moment either. What will happen was anyone's guess. One thing was for sure, he wasn't going to be an X-Men or anything like that. He never liked them. They all seemed artificial in some form or another.

Closing his eyes he relaxed his body, his old habits kept him aware of his surroundings though, but that didn't stop him from relaxing and perhaps healing in Mother Nature's embrace. By reflex alone he idly touched the scar on his neck, it was a symbol of sorts of a collar being severed.


	2. The sequel sort of: Logan POV

Logan sat on the edge of a bed, behind him soft sounds of sleep. Feminine. The now stale scent of sex bothered him more then it usually does, and he was one who never really minded the scent. Especially when his was mixed with it, especially when it was his. She had a sweet scent, sweeter then most women he's laid with. But she was nosy like a reporter but then again, he should have expected that due to the fact that she was.

"Logan? You okay?" Logan heard from behind him. He looked over his shoulder, she was a good woman. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling of it being wrong. Like he was cheating on her, somehow. He knew he wasn't every woman he's ever loved died on him, because of him.

"'m fine Melita. Ain't much o' a sleeper." Logan answered, Melita Garner was her name.

"Nightmares?" Melita asked drowsily, too tired to really take notice in the distress the shorter animalistic man was in.

"No." Logan answered; she was nosy and oblivious in her tired state. Good, he was glad for that. For one thing it meant that she won't be pushing for answers like she usually did, and second it meant he managed to tucker her out enough for him to get away without having to actually sleep with her. Nothing against her, he was fond of her. But tonight he felt on edge, his skin was crawling.

He felt cornered. And that was a dangerous feeling for him. His phone rang, snarling slightly he looked at who it was. He didn't recognize the number so he didn't pick up. Why should he?

"Try 'n get yourself some sleep." Logan said as he stood up looking his pants, he quickly found them near the end of the bed. There wasn't much light, but he could still see pretty well in the dark. Not to mention he always had his other senses to back him up. So the darkness never really concerned him. Never has. Without putting on shoes or anything he exited the small place he made his home while he was with her.

He ignored her calling after him and simply walked down the street, barefoot and only wearing his pants and dogtags. He'd have to shave and cut his hair in the morning, it was wild like usual but more so tonight. It didn't matter at the moment. Why should it? The phone he didn't answer was shoved roughly in his pants pocket, ignored and nearly forgotten if not for the constant feel of it in his pocket.

He hated nights like this. They were worse now that the dreams of so called evolution of Lupus whatever. They were worse since he took Sabretooth's head. Lost a constant in his life, despite how he hated that constant it was still a constant. Normal in a sick kind of way, he hated how he seemed to rely on the birthday surprises. They caused him pain. But with those came that sense of normalcy that most strive for. Normalcy Logan wished wasn't so sadistic or make him seem to be a masochistic sort of guy.

How he hated how Sabretooth kept popping into his head, which he hated. Hated that even though the man was dead he wouldn't leave Logan be. Wouldn't let him be at peace, even for one second. _Quod Sum Eris. I am what you will be. Bullshit._ Logan thought to himself as he snarled angrily as he found himself a bench and sat down, mildly enjoying the cool air.

He hated how Storms words kept popping up too. _You are both going to have to learn you cannot kill another without killing yourselves!_ 'Ro was a wise woman, far wiser then her years. But she had that wrong, he was certain of it.

"Shit… wha' the hell's wrong with me." Logan snarled as he rubbed his temples, senses on high alert for a moment to insure that no one followed and no one was stalking him. Paranoia was troublesome, but a lasting affect from the lifestyle he lived.

His phone rang again causing Logan to let out a nearly feral growl causing a stray cat to run off. Logan didn't really care about that at the moment as he dug out his phone and answered it growling rudely into the phone,

"What." His snapping tone obviously didn't surprise or affect the other person on the phone due to the calm reply.

_{Logan.} _A calm greeting, Logan immediately identified the person as none other then Charles Xavier.

"Uh…" Logan's anger fled enough for him to not snap and snarl at the other man, but it was still there and would always be there. He respected him despite the many mistakes he made and the manipulation of nearly everyone Logan knew. All mistakes Xavier admitted and was now trying to fix it, better late then never. Logan shook his head slightly and continued,

"Wha' can I do for ya Chuck."

_{I hope I wasn't interrupting anything important?}_ Xavier's voice continued, still unbothered and not acknowledging Logan's question yet. Logan was used to that, and he couldn't really complain because the man was one of the few who actually tried to help him, despite the fact that it was slightly double sided you do something for me if I do something for you. They both were like that, unspoken though. Xavier was a good man despite his darker side, one that Logan understood too well.

"Nah, jus' gettin' fresh air." Logan answered, clearing the air for whatever this phone call was about.

_{I see. Unfortunately this isn't a phone call simply for the sake of conversation. I have possibly bad news.}_ Xavier's voice rang out. Logan frowned slightly as he looked around once more. What was wrong? He hoped no one harmed anyone he knew; he'd kill who ever harmed them. And without a moment hesitation. Was it about his son? Laura? He didn't have a clue.

"What's wrong?" Logan asked, sitting straighter and silently thanking the fact that there was a cool breeze in the small park.

_{After your fight with Sabretooth, I had his body searched for… We couldn't find it Logan. It's missing.}_ Xavier's voice said, cautiously while keeping that calm tone Xavier was known for. Logan felt an icy chill creep into his body. He didn't expect this news.

He must not have answered quickly enough for the man due to hearing his name being said several times before a simple,

_{Are you okay?}_

"I gotta go…" Logan said without much emotion as he pulled the phone away from his ear, his keen sense of hearing still picking up Xavier's voice despite the fact that the phone was now resting on his lap.

_{Lo…}_ Xavier's voice was cut off with the snap of the phone being closed. He felt numb. He didn't know what to think. Or how to make sense of the turmoil of emotions. Anger. Hatred. Relief? Shock. Fear. He wasn't too sure why fear was there, unless it was for Melita. Sabretooth had a habit of taking people he loved away from him. And why was he relieved? Logan didn't understand.

But there it was, relief was there just as much as every other emotion.


	3. I Know I'm a Wolf

**Title:** I know I'm a Wolf  
><strong>Lyrics Used: <strong>Heh, not one specifically. Basically bits and pieces of the whole song was used as a template of sorts.  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Mentioned Logan/Melita, future Victor Creed/Logan even though it's not really mentioned  
><strong>AN:** This fanfic was a respone to a challenge. The song used for the challenge was "I Know I'm a Wolf" by Young Heretics. Don't know if this fits to that challenge. But I like the fanfic anyways lol.

A year, one small year filled with all of its three hundred and sixty five days. It took one year for him to do a total shift in being different and returning to the same old thing.

Creed lived in the wilderness for two hundred of those days, but decided to venture out back into the so called civilized world he had no care for. And he still couldn't shake off that feeling of not being the same, a part of him felt tired. And he hated that, it always made him question himself and what happened to that vital and alive part of him that always enjoyed chasing down his prey and killing that prey in creative or boring ways. The part of him that enjoyed conning the foolish and cheating everyone out of either their life or money, it didn't matter which it was.

After fifty of those days spent back cities and towns of the civilized he came to the conclusion that he wanted something, and that something had to do with the runt. He found himself by mistake hunting the smaller feral man down. And he spotted him with a woman on his arms, not unusual. The runt liked his women, much like Creed did. Though the runt had better luck and he didn't have to go and force them to submit to him in any way. They all seemed to keen and present themselves to the shorter feral. Must be his scent. After all, people are just animals and don't realize that everything in them is driven by instinct. Weak instinct for most but it was still instinct tied into that primal part they thought and fooled themselves that was shed back in the crawling out of the caves era, back before they were evolved into homo sapiens and homo superiors.

Idiots.

But no, now he found himself tucked behind a corner of a building clothed in everyday cloths watching as he walked with her. Talking, she was a reporter. That much he gathered. The runt was filling her in on his son and that clone among other kids he's either been a father-like figure for or a mentor of sorts. She asked question after question, and he wished that she would just shut up. He hated her voice, hell he hated her.

An odd feeling crept into his gut at the sight of her. He hated it. Hated it because this was the first time it wasn't directed at the runt who was always the one who was liked. Always the one who was trusted even though he was just as much of an animal as Creed was, he hated him because he had everything, and a thousand of second chances. Every time Creed did try, his own chronic bloodlust either caught up or no one gave him a half decent chance. If they did, they expected him to fail while they prayed the runt would succeed. Did they even see how he acted when the lights went out? When no one was looking? Did they not see how wrong the runt could be?

They obviously didn't, or they didn't want to see. Ignorance is bliss after all.

Idiots.

Another fifty days passed since he exited the forests warmth for the worlds cold embrace he figured things out more; he was doing a lot of thinking. More then normal, but without someone in the shadows pulling his leash for him so he had to do all of the thinking by himself which wasn't as odd to him as a small part of him would have thought it would have been. In the end he got what he wanted and now had no collar and no leash attached to him. Directing him. But in many sense's he was a murdered man. The runt killed him, and not the whole stop his heart and his healing factor restart it kind of killed. But something else in him, about him. He knew that for a fact at this point.

Why? Because it showed in what he loved to do, hunt. But that was making him wary and he found his will for it wasn't as strong as it used to be. And his current prey still was the runt. Always the runt, it was odd to think that his only commitment, that it was in most ways his own chosen commitment that he chose for himself in some manner or form. It was forged in blood, hatred and darkness. But it was theirs.

The rest of the sixty five days of that year he kept getting closer and closer to the runt, either by his own carelessness or he was simply drawn. It was a coin toss to say the least. Not that it mattered, and his patience for that woman was running out, she just wouldn't go away. He wanted her gone. When was the last time the runt kept a woman for more then a short fling? Creed hoped he didn't actually love her! He didn't want that.

He waited until she was gone, and waited for the runt to start his usual walking when he wasn't drinking, working or killing some baddie-wannabee. Creed followed after him, the runt knew he was being followed because it took less then a few minutes to realize that as they kept moving there was less and less people. Creed didn't care, he was trapped in this and wanted to move in for the kill.

Whatever that was.

Logan of course, disappeared from his sight. But his keen senses picked him up and the fight was on. They both fought with a fierceness that used to send chills down the X-Men's spines back when they were together and pure, the fierceness they fought in made higher powers covet them for that ferocity. None of that made a difference as they fought and disappeared deeper into the alleyway of two large but abandoned buildings. Homeless and junkies usually stayed in these buildings but fled with the sounds or roars coming from the both of them.

They both felt alive. And it showed!

Their fight took them into one of the buildings, crushing the door under their combined bodyweight. That didn't stop them though; the fight rolled on the ground until they gathered their footing and kept slicing and dicing. Staining the dirty ground red.

Neither knew or cared for how long this fight took place, and thanked that no S.H.I.E.L.D agent or regular cops came to investigate. Guess the Brotherhood made that possible, Creed figured he should send them a thank you card for that. And now they both found themselves panting in a room standing across from each other. Neither of them looked ready to go anywhere and waited for the other to make the first move. Just like two predators would.

"Ya changed…" Logan said, and true to his words his old enemy didn't feel right. But it was him, Logan would know he's shed this S.O.B's blood more times then he can count, and in turn Logan's own blood was shed because of him. Too much history to be fooled and this was in fact Sabretooth.

"Like hell I have." Creed disagreed, a snarl ripped from his chest following his firm statement of disagreement. Barely noticed that people who lived in this part of the city either turned their televisions up or music on to drown out the sounds of their fight. Pussies.

"You have, ya ain't the same…" Logan insisted, shaking his head slightly his wish to fight seemed to dim enough for his claws to slip from view.

Creed could practically smell that the runt felt awkward. It was funny, almost. Though Creed had to admit he had that unfamiliar feeling of awkwardness around the runt at the moment, and in the back of his mind kept whispering about his own hatred for both the reporter and what the runt had with others.

"Tha's bullshit 'n you know it." Creed shot back, a pitiful comeback compared to his more cutting and witty comebacks he could come up with. But those pesky emotions he hated to the point he wanted to tear them from himself kept getting in the way. He wanted to snarl for that, but couldn't at the moment. His attention was on an obviously skeptical runt.

"You know 'm right…" Logan's said, his voice slightly quieter then what he ever thought he'd use for Sabretooth and more thoughtful. He was getting soft in his old age.

Creed snorted what else could he do though. The runt was acting different towards him, and for once Creed wasn't in the mood to lash out violently to force the runt to act like his usual charming self. Hint the note of sarcasm about the whole charming thing.

"Think 'bout it. Ya ain't actin' the same." Logan said, though this time he was moving away in a casual manner. Hell he even turned his back on Sabretooth as he walked, and shockingly enough he didn't hear any movements behind him.

"Have you looked in the mirror lately runt!" Creed yelled after Logan, after all the runt was acting weird as well. So he didn't have a single right in pointing out Creed's different behavior at this point in time. A year after his so called death.

Creed only saw the finger salute for his comment. Creed simply crossed his arms as a response, ignoring how the stickiness of his own blood and the runt's blood seemed to excite him in a new way that he didn't recall before. Usually he felt this stirring of excitement when he was hurting another person in the cruelest of ways.

"Run rabbit." Creed purred after Logan who simply gave him an annoyed growl over his shoulder. Guess he could continue this whole hunting the runt down thing, the runt knew he was alive and they both knew that they loved the fight they just got out of their systems. Even if the runt wanted to deny that he needed it, loved it. His hearing picked up the song;

"_Dear rabbit my legs are getting weak chasing you  
>The snow films wouldn't seem so big if you knew<br>That this blood on my teeth it is far beyond dry  
>And I've captured you once but I wasn't quite right<br>So I'm telling you that you'll be safe with me._

_Rabbit my claws are down now so don't be afraid_  
><em>I could keep you warm as long as you can just try to be brave<em>  
><em>Yes I know I'm a wolf and I've been know to bite<em>  
><em>But the rest of my pack I have left them behind<em>  
><em>And my teeth may be sharp and I've been raised to kill<em>  
><em>But the thought of fresh meat it is making me Ill<em>  
><em>So I'm telling you that you'll be safe with me.<em>

_So rabbit please stop looking the other way_  
><em>Its cold out there so why not stay here<em>  
><em>Under my tail."<em>

Funny song or at least Creed thought so after he realized what he said before he heard the song because he could sympathize with that wolf. And the funny part was he was no wolf, it was more like he was chasing the wolf down and Creed was more fit to be a large wildcat. And like the cat in general, he liked to play with his food and his prey.

Creed laughed, his laughter echoing off the empty walls of the room he was in. The homeless and junkies long since fled from these buildings and probably won't be back for a while. Creed didn't mind though as he wondered around until he found himself on the roof, in the distance he could see an explosion.


	4. Fall

The final installment to this little oneshot series that's posted as one story...

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><p>The season was autumn and with it came its changes. The leaves changed, the air grew colder at night and the mornings chilled. The afternoon however was a fading reminder of summer. It would be winter soon, its freezing chills taunting those who desperately gripped to summer and its embracing warmth.<p>

But Victor didn't care too much for that. High up in the Rockies he found himself crouched down, pushing his body lower and lower to the ground until his chest and stomach nearly touched the leaves covering the ground. The wind kept blowing his way, concealing his scent from the white tailed buck grazing obliviously just north of him. Normally when hunting he'd let a smug expression appear, but not today. He wasn't hunting for sport today. Tomorrow maybe, and maybe it would be a bear. They were more of a challenge then a mediocre buck.

Victor's talons were lengthening and carving light grooves into the cooling ground with ease. A proof of how useful these claws were in so many different situations.

Slowly he stalked forward, stopping only when the buck showed signs of starting to realize it was being watched, twitchy caution showing in its streamline body. Birds sung their aggravating songs above, then the wind shifted. The buck caught his scent and the chase was on. Exhilaration coursed through his hardened body as he kept up, zigzagging with it so he didn't lose sight of it. It wasn't as if he couldn't re-track it down later but he didn't want to take the time to. Victor was practically salivating at the promise of a kill and a meal. All tied into one fur covered package.

Five minutes in total was all it took for him to catch up to the frantically feeling buck.

Two minutes to drain it of its life.

It was just another buck in the past two weeks to fall to Victor's claws. Crouching over its dead body he couldn't help but marvel morbidly on how alike he was to this cooling carcass. He too has hopelessly fallen despite his own malice and hatred. But it happened, it did. In the start, back when he first came across this realization he was mildly disgusted. He was an alpha male, and the one he started to become attached to or interested in was a classified alpha male as well. In animal talk anyways. That was before Romulus took full notice of it and took care of it before it could become anything.

And it wouldn't be until after Romulus is stripped of his kingdom and trapped away did Victor get to heal to a point and re-embrace what started as a tickle in all the right places. And at this point he came to a conclusion that it was better to have an alpha male then a soft bendable frail of either gender. After all, an alpha male doesn't bend over for you just like that. He fights you, he forces you to come to certain realizations and he's strong enough to be what he is.

He had to wait though, for all of this to be accepted by this alpha male. Melita had to die first, and she did. Buried and lived to a ripe old age and she was buried next to other important people of the runts. Her last name was Howlett by Logan's choice. Victor had no hand in killing her; if he did it would have ruined things before they even started.

And this thing he had with the runt would fall apart before it even stood a chance.

Thankfully Victor showed that he actually could be patient and let him live out her life, although with harassment and discreet courting on the side. The runt didn't appreciate the emails or harassment over the phone too much. Victor found them clever, in his opinion.

The cabin the runt lived at was a few miles out of town in Canada. No one bothered him, all of them too preoccupied with their future and their life. At this point in the world the X-Men's grandchildren were having pups of their own. The pups knew little about the infamous Wolverine and fewer called upon the whelp now to go save the day. They did it themselves, and the runt was unofficially retired. Finally. Grey started to show in both of their hair, but not nearly enough to call themselves old yet.

Standing up he pulled the carcass with him and slung it over his naked shoulder and carried it back to his destination. The cabin had smoke coming out of its chimney, the runt was obviously lounging around inside or somewhere. Victor ignored the buck's blood. Blood never bothered him, it never will. Despite the years that passed, he wasn't a changed man. He could still murder, rape and slaughter. But he was tempered slightly and that always gave others the illusion that he was a changed man.

Sniffing the air he could tell Daken was around earlier, for a brief moment. The pup still had plenty of Daddy issues but he's working through them once he got over his own fears and hatred. The clone surprisingly was a big help in that. Not that Victor cared too much. It was just a factor he had to acknowledge. Nothing more.

"'at's smaller 'en the one two weeks ago." A voice called down to him, of course the runt was on the roof. Why was he on the roof this time? Victor looked up; the runt didn't shave today or yesterday for that matter. So his hair was becoming more and more of a dark mane then a thick head of hair. Not to mention the sideburns were longer. If it wasn't for the faint amusement he saw Victor would start to wonder if the runt's going feral on him. Again.

"If ya don' like it 'en you go 'n get yer own buck." Victor snarled back, though due to the lack of heat or accusation in the runt's words. His too failed to have any heat or accusation in it. It was just how things were with them now. How times have changed! Though they still fought, oh those fights were glorious and filled with the much needed blood.

"Nah." The runt, _his_ runt, absentmindedly said as he clambered down from the roof and onto the ground. The runt forgot shoes again, though so did Victor. But that didn't matter, why should it?

"Well 'en shut it." Victor snarled slightly as he dropped the dead buck at the runt's feet before stalking inside. Let the runt tend to the buck! He heard a chuckle, today was a good day. They were civil with each other, calm and old wounds weren't causing them to be edgy or standoffish. Both of their for the most part hasn't been all that kind to either of them. And they both knew how to handle each other's moods. They got good at it within the first year of being close to friends, which eventually spawned more and now the end result was this simple hand built cabin with all the luxuries of today. Electricity, running water. A toilet. Though they hardly used the electricity during the summer. So that saved on the bill they got in the mail. Victor wanted to shove the bill up the mail person's ass on more then one occasion.

Victor made use of the bathroom, cleaning away the blood and discarding dirty pants. Outside he could hear the runt doing just that, tending to the buck. The runt didn't mind, it was usually Sabretooth who hunted for something to eat. When the runt hunted, it was for the skill of it not the kill. Though he's been known to kill. Sabretooth remembered he watched the runt hunt once or twice or twenty times at this point, the runt got so close every time that he could touch the doe or bucks side without them startling and running off or fighting.

Victor sometimes hated that he had fallen so easily, but other times he found that his fall was one of the best things that happened to him. Right before killing his father, brother and being what he was.

This was his life at this point. One day, one day 'Sabretooth' might re-emerge as would 'Wolverine' and things would start again. But for now, it was Victor and Logan. Two damaged souls bound together and the last remnants of a fallen corrupted empire.


End file.
